It's a little unbelievable actually. Sebastian hasn't gone 'out' with Jim in- since they met, he thinks. Mostly if they meet outside their current flat it's either out of the country, by accident, or because one has tracked the other down to wherever they're hiding after their most recent explosive fight
( ... )
"If we were that common, I'd never let you off the leash." Jim - pleasant smile not faltering while Seb took care of the problem - pulled back a chair and turned towards his partner. "You'd go running after the next manipulative big brain."
He just sat down and stretched his legs out. "I'll take a Guiness." Of course Seb would get the drinks. No question about that.
And fuck but Jim is so very Irish. "No shit." He'd like to mark him before he leaves but that's exactly what he's not allowed to do.
He pauses with an accidentally contorted look on his face before he recalls his mission and skips off to the bar to get a round. In crossing the room he maps out the area and its residents as accurately as possible- he gets back quickly and sits opposite Jim, because sitting beside him would not be properly casual. Having half the room at his back makes the hairs on his neck rise, but it's that or take it from Jim and he knows how that would end.
He has better ears, anyway. "Is there an actual plan?"
For a moment Jim's smile gets a sultry tinge, promising Seb all the marks he wants later tonight.
When Seb returns, Jim is apparently distracted by his phone, but he keeps glancing towards the door. "Think of it as a scouting mission. Gathering information and taking shots where we can. JF is ex-military, so is NTB. You should be able to get a foot in."
John returns, having paid their fee, and rejoins the group just in time to help with the Tony situation. He takes the empty seat next to Tony, making sure to get a bit too close.
"Mate, I told you," he says as he deliberately brushes his leg against the other man's. "I'm spoken for."
His words are met with a positively venomous glare and a sharp pull away from John.
After pub quiz done and a few more pints drunk, James and Sebastian finally leave the Queen's Head, having bid their farewells from The Team.
The first one takes a deep breath in the cool night air and puts on his Jacket. He is swaying when he stands but still able to walk somewhat steady. That does not stop him from holding onto his boyfriends arm, though, by which he drags him into the cab he's hailed for them.
As soon as they've driven of though, James vanishes, together with most of his drunkeness. Instead you have a slightly tipsy Jim leaning against Seb's shoulder, grinning.
Before the other one can comment, a hand reaches up, grabbing him by the hair and janking him into a forceful kiss with the smaller man.
Sebastian responds just as violently, if not enthusiastically. He's biting more than kissing, sharp nips and forceful tongue, dragging Jim closer by digging his nails into the man's bony hip.
He's actually not all that interested right now, but apparently this is how they communicate.
He tries to find possession in Jim's 'language' but instead he only finds excitement for a job well executed.
Their mouths seperate and Jim is panting, grinning. Adrenaline burns in his veins. And other places.
"Getting in JF's good books and grabbing CD's number. You are brilliant, baby." His voice is an excited whisper in Seb's ear as Jim goes for the throat.
Brilliant. Sure, yes. Brilliant. That's not what he'd call himself.
He took a gamble tonight.
When John Watson started getting close to Sherlock Holmes, Jim Moriarty had practically lost his mind- enough to give himself away and that was... definitive. Jim never reveals himself, it's a trick of the trade. The marks never know they've been had.
He took a gamble and he lost. God, he's been stupid. He didn't know he'd been had.
He might've fucked John Watson in the fucking men's loo and Jim wouldn't have given a shit as long as he'd given him that number at the end of the night. Because that's what's important. That's who is important.
Sherlock. Fucking. Holmes.
Sebastian opens the car door without warning. The driver panics, swerves sharply, straightens out just in time to miss an incoming car with the door, stops by the curb. He turns around to yell at his passenger.
Comments 142
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He just sat down and stretched his legs out. "I'll take a Guiness." Of course Seb would get the drinks. No question about that.
Reply
He pauses with an accidentally contorted look on his face before he recalls his mission and skips off to the bar to get a round. In crossing the room he maps out the area and its residents as accurately as possible- he gets back quickly and sits opposite Jim, because sitting beside him would not be properly casual. Having half the room at his back makes the hairs on his neck rise, but it's that or take it from Jim and he knows how that would end.
He has better ears, anyway. "Is there an actual plan?"
Reply
When Seb returns, Jim is apparently distracted by his phone, but he keeps glancing towards the door. "Think of it as a scouting mission. Gathering information and taking shots where we can. JF is ex-military, so is NTB. You should be able to get a foot in."
Reply
"Go kick Tony off of our table," John says as he makes his way toward the bar. "I'll pay for the thing."
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"Shall we go for the intimidation or the creeping them out option?" He asks Mike, grinning widely.
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"Intimidation is not a group effort, lets go hit on some boys."
Tony is apparently not sure of his sexuality enough to laugh them off, and its hilarious every damn time.
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"Mate, I told you," he says as he deliberately brushes his leg against the other man's. "I'm spoken for."
His words are met with a positively venomous glare and a sharp pull away from John.
Reply
The first one takes a deep breath in the cool night air and puts on his Jacket. He is swaying when he stands but still able to walk somewhat steady. That does not stop him from holding onto his boyfriends arm, though, by which he drags him into the cab he's hailed for them.
As soon as they've driven of though, James vanishes, together with most of his drunkeness. Instead you have a slightly tipsy Jim leaning against Seb's shoulder, grinning.
Before the other one can comment, a hand reaches up, grabbing him by the hair and janking him into a forceful kiss with the smaller man.
Reply
He's actually not all that interested right now, but apparently this is how they communicate.
He tries to find possession in Jim's 'language' but instead he only finds excitement for a job well executed.
Feels like a black hole.
Reply
"Getting in JF's good books and grabbing CD's number. You are brilliant, baby." His voice is an excited whisper in Seb's ear as Jim goes for the throat.
Reply
He took a gamble tonight.
When John Watson started getting close to Sherlock Holmes, Jim Moriarty had practically lost his mind- enough to give himself away and that was... definitive. Jim never reveals himself, it's a trick of the trade. The marks never know they've been had.
He took a gamble and he lost. God, he's been stupid. He didn't know he'd been had.
He might've fucked John Watson in the fucking men's loo and Jim wouldn't have given a shit as long as he'd given him that number at the end of the night. Because that's what's important. That's who is important.
Sherlock. Fucking. Holmes.
Sebastian opens the car door without warning. The driver panics, swerves sharply, straightens out just in time to miss an incoming car with the door, stops by the curb. He turns around to yell at his passenger.
Sebastian shoves Jim off and slips out.
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